


I Don't Care What This Song's About

by ALC_Punk



Category: Excalibur (Comic), Phonogram
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Fluff, Light Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 20:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16960674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALC_Punk/pseuds/ALC_Punk
Summary: Kitty Pryde wanders into a club playing pop music and goes home for the night with one of the deejays. This is so not deep, ok.





	I Don't Care What This Song's About

**Author's Note:**

> This literally was written as I was composing a comment on a femslash meta post wherein I was like "I can femslash anyone, even Kitty Pryde/Silent Girl (who Kitty lets tie her up)". Not that I've managed to articulate my comment at all because instead I wrote this poor excuse for a ficlet. 
> 
> The title is a line from The Pipettes' "Pull Shapes"

It was the pop music that drew Kitty into the club. The sort of sound that would have all of her ex-boyfriends sneering, but that was light and bouncy. It pulled at her, pulse through her when she reached the dance floor. 

She couldn't name even a third of the bands they played, but it didn't matter. All female singers, so many tones. Love, loss, hatred, pain, jealousy, depression, and surrounded by the calling of life. A demand that you get out there, that you stand up and be counted. It was the sort of call to arms Kitty had answered more times than she cared to remember. 

When the night ended, and the club closed, it was the silence from the DJ booth that drew her in. That, and something else. 

A dark or light or joyous something that pushed her to reach out for it. 

The deejay was dark-haired, slim and athletic, and her eyes. Oh, her eyes drew Kitty in much as the music had. She stumbled over introductions, they stumbled out together once the vinyl was stored (the other deejay had been obnoxious, but easily ignored). 

Kitty found herself kissed in alleys and roadways, on the pavement with cars cruising by, in deserted corners, and under the stars as the night progressed slowly to day. 

"Not something I normally do," she admitted, even as she let the other woman tie her down. Silken cords at the wrist, at her ankles. Skin bared to the chill in the air and making her arch when a mouth brushed over her nipples. Again, again, and then more touches, finger-tips across hips, the backs of the knees. Mouth and lips and tongue, until she couldn't think. Could do nothing more than _feel_ the pulse of the music still echoing in her blood as she begged for release. 

When climax washed her out into the universe, she clung to reality as best she could. Fingers knotted around the cords at her wrists, toes digging into the bedsheet, body hovering for a moment before returning to full corporeality. 

Fingers released her from her bonds, and Kitty sagged into the mattress. "Just... give me a moment."

When her sanity had fully come back, she opened her eyes and stared at the other woman. "My turn, then?" 

One side of the deejay's mouth slid upwards and she let Kitty take her hand, and pull her close.


End file.
